


Fulmination

by XiuChen4Ever



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Smut, M/M, MAMA Era Powers (EXO), Poor Decisions While Drunk, and consequences thereof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23431756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XiuChen4Ever/pseuds/XiuChen4Ever
Summary: Jongdae’s powers are at an all time low, but that’s not the worst part.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 31
Kudos: 156
Collections: Magika Astra: Thundervalor





	Fulmination

**Author's Note:**

> **Self-conduit**  
>  **Conduit:** Sleeping with the wrong guy had severely drained Jongdae's powers. He's sworn off any further hanky-panky until they recover. Except that's taking a long time, and Minseok hates to see his crush so down.
> 
>  **Author's Note:** Thanks to the mods for their patience and goodwill!

# ⚡❤️❄️

It’s not so much that Jongdae’s ashamed because his powers are all but gone. Everyone’s powers ebb and flow, wax and wane, based on attitude, environment, diet, and interpersonal interactions. In other words, it happens to all guys. And to everyone else. It’s  _ normal. _

The shameful part is  _ how _ his powers were drained, and how he hadn’t seen it coming. Until he was coming. Inside the wrong guy. The one he’d drunkenly taken home last night. The one who had turned out to not be Jongdae’s long-time crush, but a similarly short, sturdy guy who, while still attractive and perfectly nice, doesn’t hold a candle to his gorgeous crush in the harsh morning light. 

The one who had turned out to be an earth wielder. And earth, naturally, grounds electricity.

“Oh, man, sorry, dude,” Kyungsoo says with an awkward grimace as Jongdae stands there in his underwear, scowling down at his dead smartphone and his sparkless fingertips.

“Not your fault,” Jongdae sighs, tossing his useless mobile on the nightstand and pulling on a shirt. “I should have thought of it, but I was hammered.”

“Yeah, me too. Uh.” Kyungsoo scrubs at the back of his buzzed hair, so different from his crush’s undercut to Jongdae’s eyes when it hadn’t been to his drunken fingers. “Do you mind, uh. Keeping this quiet? It was great, don’t get me wrong, but—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Jongdae huffs. “I’m not telling  _ anyone.” _

“Wow, I was that bad, huh?” Kyungsoo’s heart-shaped smile shows that he’s teasing, that he knows Jongdae came harder than he had in a ridiculously long time—hence the thorough grounding of his powers.

But Jongdae’s not going to punish Kyungsoo for his own idiocy, so he smiles back. “No way, dude. Not bad at all.”

_ Just not Minseok. _

Kim Minseok is the closest thing to perfection the world has ever seen, and Jongdae, like everyone else with working eyeballs, has wanted him since the moment he saw him. He’s always known he has zero chance with the guy, two years ahead of him at university and lightyears ahead of him in everything else. He’s stunning, all big eyes set wide and angled in a decidedly feline way. Those lips, the defined cupid’s bow bearing a single faint freckle that begs to be kissed, the full lower lip that begs to be sucked. Add a strong nose, pointed chin, and broad cheeks that bunch up into pinchable pillows every time he smiles, and no human alive could resist Minseok’s charms.

And that’s not even mentioning his compact, muscular body that Jongdae dreams of sinking teeth and dick into. His silky black hair that curves over his forehead to fall across an eye, shaved on the sides to make fingertips ache to stroke velvet. The way his laugh sounds like everything beautiful. The way he goes from sex god to kitten when he tastes something delicious.

Jongdae definitely has ideas of what to put in Minseok’s mouth.

But Jongdae’s an idiot. Any tiny chance he might have had is obliterated now that Jongdae can’t even look at him without being flooded with shame at how he’d mistaken someone else for him, how he’d been so thrilled to finally have his crush moaning under him, how he’s just fucking lucky Kyungsoo doesn’t seem to remember the name Jongdae had screamed as he’d pulsed all his powers away.

How could he have done that? Alcohol, sure, but also pure, undeniable  _ idiocy. _

Jongdae doesn’t deserve Minseok. So it’s probably just as well that Minseok doesn’t even know that Jongdae exists.

# ❄️❤️⚡

“Hey, Min, your cute baby crush is all sad today. Maybe you should go cheer him up.”

Minseok doesn’t even look up from his notes. “Shut up, Myeon—I don’t have a crush. I just have an appreciation for a beautiful voice.”

And a handsome face. And a trim little figure. And the way the kid is always smiling— 

Minseok frowns, casting a furtive glance to the table in the commons that the kid usually occupies with his friends. Sure enough, he’s slumped over his notebook, naturally-upturned lips reduced to a flat little line.

“See? His friends aren’t even teasing him or anything—it must be really bad. Don’t you want to go kiss him and make it better?”

This time Minseok does give his best friend an arched brow. “If he’s really upset about something, I doubt he wants some random guy coming up and hitting on him.”

“You’re not a random guy—you’re Kim Minseok, Ice Prince.  _ Everyone _ wants you to come up and hit on them.”

“Not lesbians.”

“Even lesbians. I mean, they won’t take you up on it, probably, but it’s flattering to be found attractive even if you’re not interested, right?”

“…I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Whatever. I’ve seen him make out with dudes at parties, which means he’s at least bi, which means he wants you.”

“Myeon. You’re being sleazy. Shut up and study.”

“Fine,” Junmyeon huffs, settling down in his seat. “But when someone else snaps up that little hottie because you’d rather sigh over him from afar than actually talk to him, don’t come crying to me. Unless you want me to fuck it out of you.”

“Myeon!” Minseok laughs, exasperated. “Not everyone solves problems with their dick, okay? Even if I did want to date the kid—which, how could I? I don’t even know him—I wouldn’t presume to just roll up when he’s having a hard time and expect my offer to bring sunshine and rainbows back into his life. I’m the damn Ice Prince for a reason.”

“Because you have ice powers. You’re really warm and squishy, though.”

“Which is why I’m not going to bother someone who’s already got shit to deal with.”

“Your loss,” Junmyeon sings, but one more side-eyed glare from Minseok convinces him to finally shut up and actually study.

# ⚡❤️❄️

“It’s been a week, dude.” Baekhyun’s elbow isn’t particularly gentle against Jongdae’s ribs. “Aren’t your powers coming back after your supposed ‘hangover?’”

“I’m fine,” Jongdae insists. “Just a little lull, they’ll be back, I’m not worrying, and neither should you.”

“I’m worrying because you haven’t even smiled in that week, nor have you blushed over that cute senior or even practiced your recital piece. You at least need to do that—it’s part of your grade.”

“I will,” Jongdae assures his best friend. “I’m going to the practice rooms today after class. I’ll be fine, Byun. Just worry about your own piece.”

“…Okay, now I know something’s really wrong. Why aren’t you telling your bestie all about it?”

“Because there’s nothing to tell,” Jongdae huffs. “I made some poor life choices and my powers ebbed, but that’s part of life and they’ll be back, so in the meantime, I’m just going to focus on my studies. These music history papers aren’t going to write themselves, so if you’ll kindly shut the hell up, I’ll be taking more notes about Matt Bellamy.”

“How is that history if Muse’s frontman is still alive?”

“He’s an influential tenor from the last 50 years, and that’s what I’m supposed to write about. I didn’t decide the time period.”

“I’d have picked Adam Levine.”

“Which is why I’m doing Matt Bellamy. Adam’s great, but everyone’s gonna write about Maroon 5, and the prof is probably gonna be sick of it. Matt’s got a similar three and a half octave range, though slightly different min/max. I’ll probably get a better grade just because the prof is happy to read about someone different.”

Baekhyun laughs. “Well, as long as you have a plan.”

“I do, so just shut up and let me work.”

“I will. But you know I’m here if you wanna talk, right? I’m not gonna judge you. You’re my best friend and I want to see you happy. All this moping is creeping me out.”

“I will try to be less creepy for your sake. See? I’m smiling.”

“Okay, that’s even  _ more _ creepy. Just sit there and write your paper, Fester.”

# ❄️❤️⚡

“I’m not going over there.”

“If you don’t, I will.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would!” Junmyeon states. “The kid is cute. I wouldn’t mind having him all happy and grateful on my account.”

“You’re such a sleaze. What happened to that freshman you had a thing for?”

“I can have a thing for two pretty underclassmen.”

“Gross.”

“Why do you care if you only like his voice?” Junmyeon gives him a knowing look that makes Minseok want to punch his best friend’s pretty face.

“Because I am a decent human being and don’t want you to exploit some kid’s troubles because you want to get your dick wet.”

“Then you better be all noble and offer to help him first.”

“Myeon,” Minseok huffs, putting down his pen to pin him with a stern look. “I am a total stranger to that kid, whether you think the whole uni knows who I am or not. I am not just going to march over there like I’m some superhero ready to solve all his problems. He has friends already; whatever’s got him down, they can help him through it.”

“What if he’s struggling with classes we’ve already taken?” Junmyeon asks. “You could offer to tutor him. His friends are all his age—they can’t offer that, and maybe he can’t afford to pay a tutor.”

“That is such a stretch.”

“It’s not impossible—midterms were a week ago. Timing’s right for him to be bummed about his grade.”

“Still. Why are you so set on forcing me to interact with this kid?”

“Because you haven’t gotten laid since high school and I’m worried that your balls will just explode one night and I’ll be killed due to proximity.”

“…That is both biologically impossible and a horrifying mental picture.”

“Which is why you should find a pretty little thing to help you out with that.”

“Myeon. If I’m going to date someone—which I have zero time to do, which is why I’m not already doing it—it’s going to be for reasons of meshing personalities and genuine connection, not just to get my rocks off.”

“Very romantic. But this isn’t some sappy drama. This is university, and nobody’s looking for that sort of long-term romantic shit. People just want to have fun, and you should have fun, too. People call me uptight but they haven’t met married-to-my-studies Kim Minseok. You need to find yourself a proper wife.”

“Except that I’m gay.”

“It’s 2020, dude—men can be wives if they want. You’re so old-fashioned and discriminatory.”

“I—never mind. You go talk to him if you want to. I’m already going to take 5 years to graduate, I don’t need any distractions.”

“Maybe I will. And you’ll regret it when that sweet little mouth is wrapped around my dick instead of yours.”

“Whatever,” Minseok huffs, forcing himself to concentrate on his modern choreography notes rather than his inflammatory best friend. Or the handsome tenor’s absent smile.

# ⚡❤️❄️

It takes Jongdae longer to warm his voice up than usual—Baek was right that he’d been slacking off on his recital piece. But after working through all his scales and running through his easier pieces, he manages to pull off his showcase song with enough flash that he’s buzzing happily when he’s done.

Buzzing emotionally, that is. There’s still no sign of his powers returning. He still finds just the faintest of tingles when he reaches for them, not even enough to produce a static shock. 

He’s almost starting to worry.

He shoves it aside—plenty of people live long, fulfilling lives without significant powers. It’s not a measure of his worth or his future success. He’ll be an excellent singer with or without his electrical gift. 

It’s probably one of those things where the less he thinks about it, the faster they’ll recover. Like a watched pot not boiling or whatever.

He needs to watch where he’s going, though—he almost runs into someone on his way out of the practice room. Not just any someone, either—one perfection-personified Kim Minseok.

“Sorry,” Minseok says. “I was practicing my routine—” He gestures toward the dance practice rooms down the hall. “—and I heard someone in your usual room. I mean, the practice rooms. I only stopped because, well, I haven’t heard you—I mean anyone—practicing in a while, and it’s good to hear you—someone—feeling well enough to practice again.”

He runs his fingers through his hair in a futile effort to sweep it out of his face. “Damn, I totally sound like a stalker,” he chuckles feebly. “Sorry. I’ll just go. Yeah. Sorry.”

Jongdae blinks. “You… know when I practice? I mean, you recognize my voice?”

Minseok’s brows furrow. “Well, yeah, dude, you have the best voice of anyone I’ve heard since I’ve been here. I plan my practicing so I can hopefully hear you a little on my way out.” He drops his eyes and his cheeks go pink. “Damn, I really am a stalker. Sorry. I can practice in the mornings before class. I don’t mean to be a creep.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jongdae blurts. “Switch, I mean. It’s, er. It’s really flattering, actually. You’re basically campus royalty, so. I mean. If you like listening, I don’t mind.”

His face feels like the surface of the sun but he manages to lift his eyes from the green speckled linoleum tiles to Minseok’s expressive espresso eyes and offer a self-conscious smile. His heart is pounding to the rhythm of  _ Minseok noticed Minseok listens Minseok likes it _ and he’s trying not to explode with joy or shrivel with shame. 

_ Just pretend to be a normal human being, Kim Jongdae. Die on your own time. _

“Oh. Well. If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Really. It’s, um. It’s nice to know someone enjoys my efforts.”

“I do!” Minseok’s smile is gummy and lopsided and adorable, cheeks bunching, eyes curving, Jongdae-melting. “And, um. I know we have different majors, but the core classes overlap. So, er. If you ever want help with something. I mean. Maybe I can help.”

Minseok’s ice powers must be really strong, because Jongdae finds himself frozen. Did Kim Minseok just offer to tutor him? After he complimented his singing? Is this a dream? Did Jongdae get hit by a campus bus and end up in heaven?

“Ah, that probably sounded rude—I’m sure you’re top of your class in everything. It’s just. Well. You didn’t sing for a while, and, uh. You seemed a bit down whenever I’ve seen you in the commons lately and. I just. Wanted to help. If possible. I missed your voice.”

Jongdae manages to blink.

“Yeah, okay, I’m definitely a creep. Sorry. I’ll just go.” Minseok’s blushing so hard his cheeks have frosted over and  _ how is that even a thing. _

“Yes!” Jongdae blurts.

Minseok’s eyes widen. Jongdae scrambles to clarify.

“I-I mean. To the tutoring. If that’s what you were offering. Not that you’re a creep. You’re really cute. I mean popular. So everyone knows you. That you’re nice. And respectful. And get good grades. So, tutoring. Would probably help. Shit, why am I so awkward?”

Minseok’s laugh is gentle. “Well. At least we’re awkward together?”

Jongdae can’t help but smile. Minseok really is way too cute. “I guess. Um. I’m Kim Jongdae.”

“Kim Minseok.”

They trade bows.

“So… do you want to sit together in the commons next time we’re both there? For tutoring, I mean?” Minseok asks, his smile warm.

“Yeah. That sounds… yeah.”

“Okay. See you then—if I don’t hear you first.”

Jongdae’s cheeks hurt from all this stupid smiling. “Yeah. See you then.”

# ❄️❤️⚡

“You’re ditching me for your baby crush?”

“His name is Jongdae, I don’t have a crush, and yes, I am totally ditching you.”

“This is betrayal,” Junmyeon protests, mouth agape. “After all I’ve done for you.”

“You’re the one who wanted me to talk to him. Now I’m talking to him. Leave us alone or I’m microwaving your Star Wars figs.”

“You wouldn’t!”

Minseok gives Junmyeon a deadpan look.

“Okay, you totally would. You’re terrifying. I don’t know why I room with you.”

“Because you’d drown in your own filth if left to your own devices,” Minseok reminds him. “I keep the place clean, you pay for the food.”

“Oh, right. I knew there was a reason.”

Rolling his eyes, Minseok moves his things to the table Jongdae’s spread his stuff out on. Jongdae startles when Minseok sets his things down, but after blinking up at Minseok twice, he offers a bashful little smile.

“Uh, hi.”

“Hey.” Minseok sits down beside his stuff but doesn’t open his books. Instead, he leans over to look at Jongdae’s. “Music theory today?”

“Yeah. I have to transpose this canon into all seven modern modes and then invert them.”

“Ah, everyone hates that assignment,” Minseok laughs. “But don’t worry—I can help you through it. They give everyone different canons so nobody can cheat, but I have all my notes from that class to at least save you from combing the library for the examples part.”

“That would be great,” Jongdae almost moans. “Seriously, that would be so helpful. I’d save so much time—then I can keep up with my vocal practice.”

“Ey, that’s what I like to hear. Literally—your voice is great.”

# ⚡❤️❄️

Jongdae’s face heats in response to Minseok’s unguarded smile. “Uh, thanks.” He takes a sip of his water bottle to cover his fluster, grimacing as the lukewarm liquid fails to refresh him very much. “Shoulda put this in the freezer before class—oh!”

A thin layer of frost covers the outside of the plastic as Minseok wiggles his fingers. “Better?”

Jongdae sips. The water is perfectly chilled, cooling his too-hot face nicely. “Yeah. Much. Thank you.”

Minseok shrugs. “Not many practical things ice powers can do, but that’s one. Nice to be useful.”

“Are you kidding? Ice powers sound awesome. You probably never get hot in summer or cold in winter, you can skate around like Iceman and never be late to class, make your own slide into a swimming pool, oh—put an ice wall up in the dorm room when your roommate is annoying, I mean. What  _ can’t _ you do with ice powers?” 

Minseok laughs. “Ah, you’re much more creative than I am. I should be taking notes.” He smiles gently. “So, uh. What’s your power?”

Jongdae is just going to have to get used to neon pink cheeks. “Uh. Electricity.”

“Oh, neat! That seems way more fun than ice. And useful—can you, like, charge phones and laptops and stuff?”

“Usually. I’m, uh. In an ebb right now, though.”

“Ah, that always sucks. But they’ll be back before you know it.”

“I hope so,” Jongdae huffs. “They’ve never been so low for so long.”

“Oh?” Minseok says.

Jongdae winces in preparation for the next question. When will he learn not to put his foot in his own mouth?

But Minseok doesn’t ask how he lost them. Instead, he just smiles softly and touches Jongdae’s forearm briefly. “But they’ll be back. Nobody ever loses their powers permanently. They’re part of us.”

“Right,” Jongdae says, trying not to show his surprise or freak out that Minseok actually touched him, voluntarily, deliberately, in an effort to comfort him. “Yeah. Of course they will.”

Minseok answers Jongdae’s feeble smile with a brighter one, eyes curving endearingly. “So, It helps to write out the bass line first…”

Minseok is actually really good at explaining things. And his voice is mesmerizing. His face is so expressive, even when Jongdae’s supposed to be keeping his eyes on the texts in front of him or the laptop screen or whatever he’s supposed to be paying attention to that isn’t the way Minseok’s lips move or his eyebrows twitch. Even despite the distraction of that perfect face, Jongdae manages to complete two out of seven transpositions. 

His heart sinks along with the sun, deflating completely when Minseok looks at his watch before grimacing and closing his laptop.

“Damn, should have gone for dinner before the dining hall closed. Uh, wanna grab a pizza or something?”

Jongdae’s deflated heart forgets to beat. 

Minseok lifts a brow.

“Uh, yeah!” Jongdae stammers. “Pizza would be great.”

Minseok’s answering smile re-inflates Jongdae’s heart enough that it hovers above his body.

# ❄️❤️⚡

Minseok still maintains that he never had a crush on “the kid with the incredible voice.” But he is definitely developing one for Kim Jongdae, adorable, handsome second-year vocal major, bright student, hard worker, adorably whiny, especially when flustered.

And evidently just as interested in spending time with Minseok as Minseok is in getting closer to Jongdae, because it only takes one “tutoring session” for Minseok to realize this kid has no need of academic assistance. His phrase analysis is insightful and well-worded, his transcription is tidy, and he’s forthright enough not to pretend to be dumb in order to keep Minseok’s attention. Minseok rewards him by giving him plenty of attention anyway.

And by buying him dinner, because his deal with Junmyeon means Minseok’s food budget is usually more than ample. And because he likes seeing Jongdae smile, wants the chance to talk with him more, tease him a little, be the target of that sweet little pout—eyebrows lifted up in the middle, kittenish lower lip pushed out like it needs to be kissed.

“Jongdae,” Minseok says when the pizza’s gone and they’re both fiddling with their backpacks to delay having to part. “It’s clear you don’t really need me to tutor you. But I still want to see you again. Would that be okay?”

Jongdae’s so cute when he blushes. “Uh, sure? I mean, yes, please. I just. Really? Like… why?” His eyes widen, and he presses his hand over his open mouth.

Minseok can’t help but smile. “Because you’re cute and fun and I had a great time with you today. Why wouldn’t I want more of that?”

“Oh.” Jongdae’s shoulders drop from around his ears. “You mean, like, as friends. Sure.”

“If friends is what you’re interested in, then sure,” Minseok agrees. “I won’t pressure you for more.”

“But… you’d be interested in m-more?” Jongdae’s voice comes out high-pitched and breathy.

“Sure. Like I said, you’re cute and fun. And you know what it’s like to have a hellish schedule, so you won’t take it personally when I disappear into a practice room for weeks at a time to get ready for performances and vice versa.”

Jongdae’s smile widens but his gaze drops to the floor. “Wow. Uh. I, uh. Think you’re really cute, too.”

“Then give me your phone. I’ll text you my schedule and we can figure out when’s a good time to hang out next.”

When Jongdae hands his phone over, Minseok enters a snowflake emoji before his name and follows it with a heart. He texts himself a lightning emoji and hands the phone back. Then he watches Jongdae’s cheeks go pink for probably the 37th time that day. Such a cutie.

“Can I walk you back to your dorm?”

“Er, we, uh. Actually live in the same building.”

“Really? Tempo Hall?” Minseok’s grin widens when Jongdae nods. “That’s awfully convenient.”

“Yeah…”

“Then can I hold your hand as we walk home?”

“…Okay.”

Jongdae’s voice is barely a whisper.

Minseok’s cheeks are sore from smiling by the time they reach the elevator lobby.

“I’m just on the second floor,” Jongdae says, eyebrows apologetic. “So I just take the stairs unless I have a lot to carry or something.”

“I’m on the ninth,” Minseok says. “I usually take the stairs, too, though. Dancers need to stay fit, and I really like pizza.”

Jongdae laughs but doesn’t protest when Minseok keeps hold of his hand into the stairwell and up to the second floor landing.

“Do we part here, then?” he asks.

“For now,” Jongdae smiles. “I’d, um. Say to text me when you get home safely, but…”

Minseok laughs. “I’ll text you anyway, because even though I have ice powers, I have no chill.”

Jongdae’s groan is delightful, as is the way he shakes off Minseok’s grip and basically flees from his laughter.

# ⚡❤️❄️

####         
`❄️Minseokkie❤️≫Are you free on Friday?`  


####       ` _⚡Jongdae❤️≪I have practice until 4 but I have no plans after that._ `

####       `❄️Minseokkie❤️≫Want to meet me in the lobby around 7 and head over to Cloud 9?  
❄️Minseokkie❤️≫They have live music on Friday nights, and my friend’s band is playing.`

####       ` _⚡Jongdae❤️≪Sure._ `

Jongdae looks up from his phone in response to his roommate’s gasp to find Baekhyun reading over his shoulder.

“Is snowflake-Minseokkie-heart the same as Kim Minseok?”

“Yeah,” Jongdae admits with a sheepish smile.

“And did you just arrange a date?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re going out with Kim Minseok?”

“Yeah.”

_ “The _ Kim Minseok?”

“Yeah?”

“Campus royalty, Ice Prince, sex-on-fine-fucking-legs Kim Minseok?”

“Yeah.”

Baekhyun blinks at him, then his gape turns into a grin. “How the fuck did you manage that?”

Jongdae can’t help but smile back. “I’m still not entirely sure. But I’d like him to be interested enough to want a second date, which is why, against my personal preferences, I am at your fashion mercy.”

Baekhyun’s smile goes fully rectangular. “Sweet baby DaeDae, you couldn’t be in better hands.”

# ❄️❤️⚡

When Minseok exits the stairwell it’s to find a  _ very _ uncomfortable-looking Jongdae standing awkwardly in the lobby. Uncomfortable but  _ hot— _ Minseok takes in the skinny jeans and half-unbuttoned Hawai’ian shirt, the styled-up hair, tightly lined eyes, glossy lips—and are those earrings?

“Just tell me I look like a hooker already so I can go change and wash my face.”

“No! I mean, you look amazing. But also… unhappy to be wearing all that.”

“I feel like a kid playing dress-up,” Jongdae mumbles at the toes of his black leather boots. “I’m not a high-fashion sorta guy.”

“Me, either,” Minseok laughs. 

He’s in fitted jeans and a button-down thanks to Junmyeon’s insistence, already a good deal fancier than Minseok’s usual casual athleticwear. He’s lined his own eyes, too, smudging it out a bit at the corners—he likes Jongdae enough to want to dazzle him a bit. But nothing could be more dazzling than his date. Well, if his date weren’t pouting at the floor.

“Here,” Minseok says, stepping forward to try to rescue the situation. “What if we just—”

He untucks the shirt, smiling when Jongdae doesn’t flinch away from his hands at his waist. He buttons it up almost to the top—shame to hide those tantalizing collarbones, but of course Jongdae’s comfort is far more important. He takes off his own leather jacket and drapes it over Jongdae’s shoulders, then unties the black denim jacket from Jongdae’s waist and shrugs into it.

“This is not yours,” he laughs as he rolls up the cuffs one more time.

“It’s a friend’s,” Jongdae says, “and you don’t have to wear it—my room’s just upstairs, I can run and change.”

“But your roommate helped you get ready, I bet,” Minseok says, reaching for Jongdae’s hand. “So did mine. And now I look less like a church oppa, you look less like an escapee from Fashion Week, and we’re going to go have fun as ourselves instead of what our friends think we should be in order to impress each other.”

“Yeah,” Jongdae agrees, flashing Minseok a grateful smile. “We don’t need those meddling dorks.”

“Well, maybe for the eyeliner,” Minseok hedges. “It looks really good on you.”

God, Minseok loves it when Jongdae blushes. “Thanks,” he says. “Yours does, too.”

“I can teach you to do it yourself sometime if you want,” Minseok offers as they step out into the crisp fall night. “With your high cheekbones and angled jawline, if you screw it up and end up with it all smeared, you’ll just look like a rockstar gone rogue. With my babyface, it looks like someone socked me in the eye if I don’t get it right.”

Jongdae laughs. “I’m more afraid of poking myself in the eye.”

“Just move slowly, so if you do poke yourself, it’s not so bad.”

“Easy for you to say, since you can make yourself a cold pack out of thin air.”

Minseok’s laugh is easy. Everything about hanging out with Jongdae is easy. They walk in silence for a while, clasped hands swinging between them.

“Tell me about your friends,” Minseok invites. “Is your roommate in the music program, too? He’s one of the kids you’re usually with in the commons?”

“Baekhyun’s the loudmouth with the fluffy blond hair,” Jongdae huffs. “We’ve known each other since preschool—he’s basically a brother at this point so I can’t get rid of him.”

“You love him,” Minseok coos.

“I do, much to my occasional detriment. Your roommate must be the mom’s-friend’s-son looking guy you’re always with, if he dressed you like a church oppa to match.”

Minseok laughs. “Junmyeon is very good at looking smart. This is his shirt, actually,” he admits, tugging at the striped button-down. “He thought it would help me look less like your kid brother and more like—” Minseok stops himself before the words  _ your sugar daddy _ come out of his mouth. “Well. More mature.”

"You always look good, though," Jongdae says, then covers his mouth and blushes adorably.

Minseok feels his own cheeks heat. "Thanks. You do, too."

# ⚡❤️❄️

The bar is much classier than the ones Jongdae usually ends up at with his friends, but of course he’d only expect that from Mr. Perfect. His friend, a guy Jongdae vaguely remembers seeing around campus, is good with the guitar and even better with the ladies, if the screams in response to his wicked dimpled smirk are anything to go by. The set is interesting, a sampling of various genres, all very catchy and with a very danceable beat.

Minseok must think so, too, because after their first beers have been consumed, he tugs a rather reluctant Jongdae up from their booth and out into the crowd of dancing bodies.

“I’m really not a dancer,” he tries to warn his date.

“Just relax, we’re having fun, not being graded.”

Jongdae knows his smile is still rather wan from the eyeroll he gets from Minseok. But Minseok’s smile is confident, reassuring, and when he settles his hands on Jongdae’s hips Jongdae almost laughs at the idea of  _ relaxing _ when Kim Minseok is touching him like this.

The beat is rather mesmerizing, though, and he finds himself sinking into it despite himself, hips and knees loosening as he follows Minseok’s gentle guidance. He tries to think about the music, the heartfelt lyrics, the way Minseok’s dimpled friend croons them into the microphone like he’s seducing it rather than the fact that  _ Kim Minseok is dancing with him _ because every time he does, he can feel himself freaking out and freezing up. 

Or maybe that’s just Minseok’s icy powers—Jongdae should be sweating by the third song, but somehow he and Minseok are in a little oasis of chill, still fresh and comfortable despite the shirts sticking to bodies all around them.

“I was right about ice powers being awesome,” Jongdae says, leaning in closer to repeat himself when Minseok’s lifted brow indicates the music obscured his words.

Minseok, that smooth bastard, takes the opportunity to wrap his arms tighter around Jongdae and pull him in. “Oh, I don’t know—I can think of some ways to have fun with electricity that make ice seem quite boring.”

Jongdae can’t stop his heavy sigh. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t help you with that until my damn powers decide to come back.”

Minseok pulls away enough to frown at him, then leads Jongdae from the dance floor when the song changes to something slower. Their booth has been claimed by a pack of giggling girls, so Minseok ushers him into a quiet corner, still holding his hand as they lean against the wall.

“Your powers have been gone a long time, haven’t they? And they’re not recovering at all?”

Jongdae shakes his head. “I think I really screwed up,” he admits.

“You know what caused the ebb?”

Cheeks suddenly hot despite the personal AC unit holding his hand, Jongdae nods.

“Well, that makes it easier to reverse it, doesn’t it?”

Jongdae snorts. “I can’t un-have-sex with someone,” he huffs, then is sure he’s turning interesting shades of crimson as he realizes what he just said to the man of his (and everybody else’s) dreams.

But Minseok only chuckles. “You lost your powers having sex?”

“I, er. There was this party,” Jongdae begins, then turns to bury his face against his free arm and the wall. “Ah, it’s so embarrassing!”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad—I’ve done plenty of dumb stuff, too.”

Jongdae supposes it isn’t that bad, provided he leaves out the part about his obsessive crush and mistaken identity. “Well. I, um. Took this guy home. And… he was an earth user, so. My powers were grounded out.”

He doesn’t look at Minseok so he doesn’t have to see him try not to laugh.

“Wow, that’s a new one,” Minseok says, only a hint of amusement in his voice. “But, you know. My roommate’s a water user, studying meteorology because he’s naturally sensitive to the weather. And he told me something very interesting once.”

“Oh?” Jongdae risks peeking at Minseok, who’s smiling rather… dangerously?

“He told me that during a storm, what causes lightning is a bunch of static charge building up in a cloud… between tiny particles of  _ ice.” _

Jongdae blinks.

Minseok grins.

“So, you know. Not to be lewd or anything, but… I’d be more than willing to try building up some static with you, if you’re interested.”

A chill runs down Jongdae’s spine. “Oh, I’m  _ very _ interested.”

Minseok’s grin turns triumphant, and then Jongdae’s outside the bar and being caged against a street lamp. Minseok chuckles low in his throat at whatever expression Jongdae’s making as he leans in. Jongdae pinches Minseok’s side, then pulls him closer when cool lips press against his own. The sound he makes is far more undignified than any facial expression could possibly be.

Minseok pulls away to laugh, low and hungry, then leans in again, more confident at this sign of Jongdae’s appreciation. His tongue is cool, too, when Jongdae parts his lips to let it slip into his mouth, and Jongdae shivers at the thought of how it would feel on increasingly-heated areas of his body.

“Dorms,” Jongdae manages to pant against Minseok’s intoxicating lips. “Bed?”

“Bed,” Minseok agrees.

Jongdae dodges his next kiss to frown. "We both have roommates."

"I'm older than mine," Minseok dismisses. “I can pull seniority. He has friends he can crash with, he’ll be fine.”

Laughter bubbles from Jongdae’s throat as an evidently-determined Minseok pulls him insistently along by the hand. They end up running back to the dorm, tumbling into the lobby breathless and laughing, Minseok cupping Jongdae’s face in cool hands to claim more heated (but chilled) kisses. Jongdae’s not sure if Minseok’s doing it on purpose or if he always runs cold, but he’s dislodged from his thoughts by the sound of the elevator dinging its arrival.

He lifts a brow at Minseok, who only smiles and pulls Jongdae into the car, elbowing the button for the ninth floor so he doesn’t have to take his hands off of Jongdae. “Hard to make out on the way up the stairs,” he says, then captures Jongdae’s lips again.

Jongdae’s laughing as he responds, wrapping his arms around Minseok’s sturdy waist, feeling the press of Minseok’s body cool against his, making the hairs on the nape of his neck stand at attention. The elevator is creaky and slow, but Jongdae still whines when the car reaches Minseok’s floor and those delicious lips pull away.

“Almost there, Dae,” Minseok soothes.

His fingers are firm but gentle as he pulls Jongdae down the hallway, stopping at a door marked 991 and keying it open.

"Jun, get out," Minseok commands as soon as they step inside.

“Wow, Seok, finally bring someone home—oh, your cute little crush, it’s about  _ time _ you got your di—”

Minseok’s glare literally freezes the air in the room 

"Damn, okay, just let me pack my stuff…"

They're already on Minseok's bed as Jun bustles around, his roommate’s presence doing nothing to keep Minseok from attempting to swallow Jongdae lips-first.

“Jeez, Min, let the poor kid breathe. I know it’s been a while, but—”

The temperature plunges. “Aren’t you gone yet?”

“I’m going, I’m going—condoms are in my nightstand, help yourself!”

Minseok’s scowl turns into a begrudging nod as his roommate salutes and pulls the door shut behind himself.

“Seems like a nice guy,” Jongdae offers.

“He’s a good friend,” Minseok agrees. “But I don’t want to think about him right now—my attention is all for  _ you.” _ His leer turns serious. "Jongdae, I really like you. This can be just sex if that's what you want, but I'd like it to be the start of something more."

"I'm done with one night stands,” Jongdae huffs. “I want something real.” His cheeks heat against Minseok’s palms as Jongdae drops his gaze. “And I've wanted you for a long time."

"Well, you have me," Minseok declares, his smile going wicked. “Now—let’s see if we can’t produce a few sparks.”

# ❄️❤️⚡

Minseok does his best to create as much static buildup as he possibly can, stripping Jongdae slowly and pressing chilled kisses along heated skin. He delights in all of the notes and trills the trained singer is emitting for him, smiling at the vibrato Jongdae achieves when Minseok finally wraps his hand around Jongdae’s cock. 

“I love hearing you sing,” he praises, smile pulling wide as Jongdae tucks his chin to his chest and blinks, glassy-eyed, down at him.

“The blitz are you still dressed?”

Minseok laughs. “Hmm, you’d rather not be taken apart by a church oppa?”

“No. You strip your shirt off on stage for half the campus to ogle, don’t pretend you’re some kind of shy.”

“Oh, I’m far from shy,” Minseok assures him, shrugging out of his clothes as Jongdae stares at him hungrily from the bed. 

Jongdae produces a low, thrumming bass note as Minseok covers him again for more kissing, bare body hot against Minseok’s deliberately cool skin. He runs through the entire scale as Minseok kisses down his body, transposing beautifully to a higher key when Minseok wraps chill lips around his cock.

“Min _seok!”_

Minseok only snickers around the heated length in his mouth, bobbing his head with his tongue pressed firm against Jongdae’s sensitive flesh. Just as his moans become choppy, Minseok pulls off to blow cool air over the wet skin. He grins at the resulting melodic shriek.

“You utterly cold bastard.”

Minseok gestures at the frost lacing the metal frame of the bed and spreading across the tile floor in response to Minseok’s excitement. “I’m the Ice Prince.” 

“You’re a dick.”

Grinning, Minseok strokes himself. “Thought you wanted a dick.”

“Thought you were gonna get me off.” Jongdae’s trying for angry eyebrows, but his lips keep curling when Minseok bites his lip and winks.

“How do you want it, Dae? Want me in you? Prod your prostate and send lightning up your spine?”

“Yeah, Min, fuck me—but when I get my powers back, I’ll have my electric revenge.”

“I can’t wait,” Minseok laughs, then gets up to grab the lube from his drawer (and fish a condom out of Junmyeon’s). 

He pulls the chill out of the lube before prepping Jongdae, relaxing him with warm fingers and warmer words. And then he’s sheathed in latex and pushing inside, one of Jongdae’s knees over his shoulder.

“Ah, Dae,” he moans. “You’re taking me so well. Gonna fuck you until your fuses blow.”

Jongdae writhes like a downed power line when Minseok’s thrusts hit home, wailing operatically as Minseok does his best to spark the electric user’s powers. He’d deliberately edged Jongdae before but now he goes hard for the goal, gripping the leg over his shoulder and pounding steadily to keep his dick rubbing right where Jongdae’s most sensitive.

“Min, I need you to come,” Jongdae pants after several minutes. “Come for me—spark me up with that ice!”

Minseok’s generally of the opinion that good tops finish last, but if Jongdae’s gonna demand it, Minseok’s not going to deny him. He lets go of restraint, hips stuttering briefly before he’s pressing as deep as he can go, the chill coalescing in his core and flooding out of him in low, staggered groans.

Jongdae whines, high and almost beyond the range of hearing, like a taser powering up. And then he explodes.

Electricity suddenly arcs through Minseok’s body, a loop running from his dick along his spine and out through the fingers now contracted against Jongdae’s calf. His whole body is flexed, rigid and immobile for a handful of heartbeats as Jongdae groans low and stripes his stomach. For that instant, Jongdae’s kicking cock is the only thing that moves, and then Minseok’s collapsing on top of Jongdae (and the mess he’d just made).

“Holy blitz, are you alright?”

Minseok’s laugh is breathy as he rolls onto his back. “‘M good.”

“Thank fuck—thought I’d electrocuted you.”

“I think you did,” Minseok huffs, stretching muscles just forcefully contracted. “Gonna be sore tomorrow. I’m guessing it’s not always like that?”

“No way, I’d have warned you if I’d known that would happen.”

Jongdae’s face is twisted with embarrassment. Minseok reaches an arm out to cradle a beautifully-sharp cheekbone, smoothing along it with his thumb. “I didn’t hate it,” he admits. “I mean—it could be really hot if it was, like. Controlled.”

It’s lovely to see Jongdae’s grimace melt into a smirk. “Oh, now that it’s back, I definitely know how to use it. Thanks for that, by the way.” 

Minseok smiles back. “You’re very welcome, but it wasn’t exactly a hardship. I thoroughly enjoyed it.”

“Good,” Jongdae says, pressing his index finger and thumb together briefly. When he separates them, an arc of purple plasma stretches between them until he snaps it away. “Damn, it feels so good to have my powers back.”

He rolls up onto his side, propping his head on the heel of his hand and smiling down at Minseok. “Feels better to be with you, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Minseok slides an arm beneath Jongdae’s slim waist and pulls him close, temporarily ignoring the stickiness on their skin.

“Good,” he says, pressing a cooling kiss to Jongdae’s sweaty forehead. “Because I rather enjoy being with you, too. You’re electric with or without your powers, in bed or out.”

Jongdae groans and covers his face with his free hand, but Minseok can still see the underlying grin.

“For an ice prince, you sure are good at melting a guy’s heart.”

Minseok noses along the corner of Jongdae’s partially-hidden lips. “Ah, but we’re more than just our powers, aren’t we?”

“Sure,” Jongdae says, uncovering his face and returning Minseok’s tender kiss. “But now that I have mine back, I look forward to using them to dazzle my brand new super hot ice prince boyfriend.”

Minseok has to squeeze Jongdae tight in order to avoid making high squeaky noises at him. He’s already entirely dazzled, but hearing the word  _ boyfriend _ from his singer’s lips is music to his ears, and the smile on those lips is utterly _electric._

# ⚡❤️❄️


End file.
